


Our Own

by quietregulus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Choking, Established Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Moving In Together, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietregulus/pseuds/quietregulus
Summary: Prompt: Draco just wants a bit of time alone with Harry in their new home. However, that’s a bit difficult to achieve when there’s a Weasley popping in or visiting without warning.





	Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> banged this out in four hours which feels nice after not being able to write ANYTHING for my other story. please don't take this too seriously, i'm /definitely/ not
> 
> prompt from drarrypromptoftheday.tumblr.com
> 
> ao3 user quietregulus writes something that isn't angst or hurt/comfort? incredible

“Our own place. Isn’t that mental?”

Draco glanced over at Harry, who was walking through the flat with a look of childlike wonder on his face. He smiled softly as he watched Harry go up to the window and look outside of it.

“I just hope you know that I’m going to be decorating the place,” Draco started to say as he drew closer to Harry.

The latter turned to face Draco with a raised brow.

“Is that so?”

Draco leant against the opposite side of the window Harry was standing at.

“Well, _you_ certainly won’t be decorating it. You have terrible taste,” Draco drawled.

Harry rose to the bait.

“I don’t have terrible taste,” he argued defensively, glaring at Draco.

He was adorable.

“You do, Harry, and the sooner you accept it, the better.”

“You can’t just decide these things on your own,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “We’re a _couple_ , not a – a single person.”

“Why am I dating a complete idiot?” Draco murmured to himself, pulling Harry close. When Harry opened his mouth to argue, Draco added, “You don’t need to answer that.”

Draco had his arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, their hips grazing together.

“I hate you,” Harry told him, but it was hard to believe him when his breathing had picked up and his green eyes got just a little bit darker.

“No, you don’t,” Draco smirked at him.

Before Harry could say anything more, Draco kissed him.

Merlin, he could never get sick of this, of Harry’s scent flooding Draco’s senses and his warmth reassuring against Draco’s skin. Harry was already kissing back enthusiastically, and soon he had nudged Draco’s mouth open and was flicking his tongue inside. Draco began moving his hands up and down Harry’s torso, slipping them underneath his cotton shirt, savoring the warm skin underneath.

“Mmmph,” Harry said, then pulled away. His glasses were askew, and Draco still had his hands up his shirt, unwilling to let go. “We’re right in front of the window, Draco.”

Draco glanced out of it; he saw an empty street save for a few cars.

“There’s no one out there,” he told him, and began sucking on Harry’s neck.

Harry let out a tight moan, tilting his head back to allow Draco better access. Draco sucked harder, determined to mark Harry as his own (for perhaps the hundredth time).

“There could be – ah, people in the complex across from us,” Harry panted.

Draco pulled back from the spot and moved onto another.

“Let them watch.”

“God, Draco,” Harry mumbled, and refocused Draco’s attention with his hands, kissing him deeply.

Draco just about melted in Harry’s arms. It was almost pathetic (and really quite scary) that Harry could still make him feel like this, even after two and a half years.

He pulled back and tugged Harry’s shirt off roughly; Harry took off his glasses and tossed them onto the couch they’d brought from Draco’s old flat. Draco ran his hands up Harry’s torso and chest, reveling in the smooth skin and dark hair that lightly coated his chest.

Draco knelt down on his knees, slowly kissing a path down Harry’s stomach and pulling his sweatpants down gently. He tasted slightly of sweat – an aftereffect of them having recently moved all of their furniture into their flat. Draco had his hands on Harry’s pants, about to pull them down to –

“Harry? Are you and Draco all moved in?”

Both men cursed under their breath, Draco standing up and retreating a good few paces away from Harry, who was hurriedly pulling his sweatpants back on. Harry was reaching for his shirt when a very pregnant Hermione Granger-Weasley walked into the living room, a small, ginger girl in tow.

“Oh, hello,” she said, her gaze sharp as she eyed the two guilty men.

“Hey, Hermione,” Harry grinned sheepishly. He picked up his shirt off the floor and pulled it on. “Sorry. It was, er, hot. Hi, Rose.”

“Hello, Harry,” said Rose, who stood obediently by her mother’s side. “Hello, Draco.”

Draco nodded a greeting at both Granger and her daughter. He crossed his arms. “We didn’t know you’d be over so soon.”

“Yes, well, Rose and I finished our errands early, so we decided to stop by,” explained Hermione. “So, you’ve finished moving in, then?”

Draco nodded again tightly. _Why_ did Granger have such horribly impeccable timing?

“Yeah,” said Harry distractedly, who was now searching for his glasses.

Having spotted them, he hurried to the couch and retrieved them. He shoved them on his face.

Granger’s eyebrows were raised, but she said nothing of it.

Instead, she looked around and smiled. “It is a beautiful place, isn’t it? I just wanted to stop by and see it, you know. Ron was also planning on coming but he wasn’t able to; he had to stay and mind the shop. I’m sure all three – or perhaps four – of us will be around soon enough.”

“Yeah, brilliant,” said Harry. “That’d be great.”

“Will we go back to Daddy now?” asked Rose in a high voice.

“Yes, darling,” she told Rose kindly. “Alright, I’ll leave you boys to it. I’m sure you still have so much to do.”

“We do, yeah,” agreed Harry, nodding and walking her over to the fireplace. “Loads of stuff.”

Draco followed them at a distance, watching as the three of them exchanged their goodbyes. And then Harry and Granger seemed to realize something – there was no Floo powder.

“Oh yeah, er, I think we have it somewhere…” Harry was trailing off, looking at the sea of boxes before him. “Draco? D’you know where we put the Floo powder?”

Draco leant against the doorway leading from the entry hall into the living room. He didn’t even try to look.

“No idea, sorry.”

Harry grimaced at Hermione. “Sorry. Will you be able to Apparate?”

Granger flapped a hand at him dismissively. “Of course, Harry. Take my hand, Rose.”

Rose did so.

“Hold on tight now. Bye, Harry, Draco. We’ll see you again soon.”

Harry gave a weak ‘bye’ as Draco lifted a hand; Granger and her daughter were gone with a _crack_ , leaving the two men alone once more.

“Well, er, that was nice,” attempted Harry.

He had crossed his arms and was making his way to Draco in a roundabout manner.

“Oh yeah. A completely unexpected, two-minute-long visit right when I was just about to suck you off,” Draco nearly growled. “It was _really_ nice.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair nervously. “You could still, y’know…”

Draco raised an eyebrow and let out a short laugh.

“No, moment’s passed. Better luck next time, Potter.”

He walked away despite Harry’s protests.

* * *

 

They had assembled their bed first, for obvious reasons.

For _sleeping_.

And perhaps other things.

“Finished,” Draco announced proudly, looking down at the newly constructed bed.

He’d never heard of “IKEA” before, but he was now a happy and loyal customer.

Harry wiped his forehead. “Thank Merlin.”

“Come on, Potter, chin up. It wasn’t that bad.”

“I did all the work!”

“We put in equal effort.”

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, and then he froze momentarily before a sly smile began to grow on his face. Draco froze too, because he knew exactly what that expression meant.

“No. Whatever you’re about to do, stop,” Draco said sternly, backing away slightly.

Harry gave a horrible grin and wiped his forehead again, rushed Draco, and put his sweaty hands all over Draco's face.

Draco made an undistinguished sound and tried to escape, but it was no use. Harry was an inch or two shorter than him, but was built much stronger than Draco was, rendering Draco useless in a physical fight.

“You’re disgusting!” Draco told him, grimacing as Harry wiped more and more sweat over Draco’s face, hair, and shirt. “Stop it!”

Harry finally did stop, backing away with a smile that told him that he was very proud of himself. Draco shuddered.

“See, if we both put in equal amounts of effort, you’d be just as sweaty as me,” said Harry.

“Disgusting,” Draco said again, scowling at him.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Harry ventured. He was coming closer again, and Draco was backed against a wall. “It’s not like you’ve never felt my sweat before.”

“That was in a different context and is a completely different situation.”

“Yeah?”

The damp ends of Harry’s hair were sticking in curls to his forehead, and his eyes were bright as he grinned at Draco. Draco flushed deeply.

Now only a foot away, Harry took Draco’s hands from his sides and pinned each to the wall by the wrists. Draco moaned as Harry kissed him with fervor, sticking his thigh between Draco’s legs. He didn’t try to resist in the slightest; he simply gave in.

Draco felt himself getting hard already, already weak from the missed chance earlier in the day.

Harry bit Draco’s bottom lip and tugged on it slightly.

“Not so disgusting now, am I?” Harry asked softly, and at Draco’s slight shake of the head, he kissed him again.

“Helloooo?”

“Fuck,” Harry muttered against Draco’s lips.

He pulled away, releasing Draco’s wrists and walking out of the bedroom.

“Git,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his sore wrists before following Harry out into the entryway.

True to her word, Granger was back with her daughter and husband.

Draco combed his hair back with his fingers, uncertain of how presentable he looked. If Harry was any indication, he must’ve looked a disaster.

“Hey mate,” Harry was greeting Weasley with a one-armed hug. He did the same to Hermione and patted Rose’s head. “Sorry I’m all – like this. We were making the bed.”

“Sure you were,” said Weasley, a knowing smile on his face.

Granger glared at him, and Harry looked at him, abashed.

“No, really. I’ll show you.”

Harry walked past Draco with purpose; he nodded at each of the three Weasleys in turn as they went past. He followed Granger, and then the five of them were stood in Draco and Harry’s new bedroom, admiring the newly-built bed.

“Yeah, alright,” said Weasley. “I believe you. Happy?”

“Yeah. Anyway, this is the bedroom, as you can see,” Harry said, gesturing around him. “Don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s impossible not to,” Draco told him, but Harry ignored this.

Draco glared and followed along as Harry completed his tour, waiting only for the moment their visitors left so they could pick up where they had left off. _Twice_.

* * *

 

“Alright,” Harry said once the Weasleys had Flooed away (they’d generously brought their own and left some with Harry and Draco – “it’s a housewarming gift”), “They’re gone.”

“They certainly are," agreed Draco.

“Which means we can continue."

Harry approached Draco and tugged on his shirt insistently. His lips ghosted against Draco’s neck; Draco shivered.

“Bed,” Draco said to him.

Harry had already tossed off his glasses and shirt by the time they’d gotten to the bedroom. He sat down on the still sheet-less bed and looked at Draco expectantly. Draco took in the gorgeous sight, eyes bright and unobscured by those ugly (yet endearing) glasses, his slightly dark skin that contrasted so deeply against Draco’s own, and the visible bulge underneath the grey sweatpants.

Draco went up to Harry and straddled him, pushing Harry further up on the bed. He kissed him hard, unleashing all of the pent-up energy on his boyfriend. Draco ran his hands through Harry’s thick, dark hair, reveling in the moment.

Harry’s own hands were traveling down Draco’s back and arse, grabbing at him eagerly. His moans reverberated through Draco, the sounds going straight to his cock and making him more and more impatient.

Draco pulled back and told Harry to move back further and lie down. Harry obeyed, his eyes watching, waiting, wanting.

Draco crawled over to him until his face was level with Harry’s pelvis. He pulled down Harry’s sweatpants with force, impatient and irritated from being interrupted twice now. He pushed down Harry’s pants – finally – and pulled them off, tossing them to the side.

Harry was already completely hard, leaking slightly with pre-come. Draco licked his lips and bent down close.

Harry twitched above him.

“Draco…”

He was restless – good.

Draco licked the entire length of Harry’s cock in one, long go before taking him in his mouth. Harry made a noise that sounded a bit like a strangled gasp; Draco sucked lightly, moving his mouth up and down Harry’s cock slowly. Harry’s hands were grasping at Draco’s shoulders now, and Draco used more pressure, knowing by now what Harry wanted.

“Yes…”

Draco sucked even harder and swirled his tongue around the head. Harry’s hand was tangled in Draco’s hair now, and he pulled. Draco moaned around Harry’s cock and sucked even harder in retaliation, taking as much of Harry as he could.

“Draco,” Harry was saying.

He looked up, Harry’s cock still in his mouth, and Harry was panting, his eyes unfocused.

“Let me fuck you.”

Shivers went down Draco’s spine. He let go and sat up straight.

“How do you want me?” he asked Harry, his voice hoarse.

“On your back,” Harry told him, and Draco obeyed, switching spots with Harry and drawing his legs up.

Harry was on his knees in front of him. He lifted a hand and murmured a Summoning spell; the small bottle of lube came flying from one of the boxes in the room, and Harry caught it easily. Draco watched as Harry began slicking the lube across his fingers and his cock, his entire body thrumming with want. Finally, Harry met Draco’s eyes.

“Ready?”

“I’ve _been_ ready,” Draco muttered.

He inhaled sharply as Harry inserted a finger into Draco.

“Fuck,” Draco hissed.

Harry smiled, that irritatingly proud look on his face again. Draco wanted it gone.

He pumped his finger in and out of Draco, his green eyes locked on Draco’s own the entire time. By the time Harry had put three in, Draco was flushing furiously and his heart was pounding, wishing Harry wasn’t staring at him so intensely.

“What’s wrong?” Harry was smiling slyly.

“You’re so – arrogant,” Draco breathed. “Hurry up and fuck me properly, Potter.”

“Potter again, huh?” Harry questioned, but he accepted Draco’s request, drawing his fingers away. “Fine, _Malfoy_.”

Harry took hold of Draco’s hips and positioned them roughly right in front of him. Draco stared as Harry slathered even more lube over his cock, his entire body aching with desire.

He entered Draco easily, but Draco still winced as Harry’s cock pushed into his arsehole. He relaxed as Harry pulled back slowly; Draco mourned the fact that he couldn’t see Harry’s face as he did so. His head was bowed, looking down and focusing on what he was doing, his chest rising and falling lightly. Draco was about to ask what was wrong when Harry thrust into Draco again, harder and faster than the first. This time, Draco couldn’t contain the low moan and it escaped, deafening in an otherwise silent room.

Draco saw Harry’s smile as he pulled back and thrust again, his cock tight and thick within Draco. His head dropped against the mattress and he forced his eyes shut, reveling in the raw, primal sensation of Harry Potter fucking him.

Harry was gripping Draco’s thighs so hard that he’d be surprised if there _weren’t_ any bruises there tomorrow. He was murmuring something below his breath as he gained speed, fucking Draco harder and harder. Draco’s hands scrambled for sheets – there weren’t any – and had to settle for clawing into the mattress. He spread his legs wider for Harry, willing and wanting to take everything Harry could give. Harry took this as a sign and pushed them even further apart, now driving his cock so far into Draco that there was the sound of skin hitting skin every time he thrust forward.

He was reaching breaking point, Draco knew. He opened his eyes and looked up at Harry – so fit, gorgeous beyond imagination, and all his, just Draco’s –

“Harry,” he panted weakly. “I –“

Harry released the vice grip on Draco’s thighs and bent forward, closer, and then he was choking Draco.

Pure bliss flooded Draco’s mind and he shut his eyes again tight, struggling to breathe, only feeling Harry’s cock and his calloused hand around Draco’s neck. Everything else went away.

Harry’s pace quickened and his grip slackened; Draco opened his eyes.

“I’m gonna –“

“Come,” Draco told him hoarsely.

Draco felt the hot liquid spread within him and leak out as Harry pulled out completely, his chest rising and falling heavily. Harry’s hand went from Draco’s throat to his cock and he pumped fiercely, panting all the while. Draco moaned, his entire being sensitive after being neglected; it was only half a minute before Draco came all over Harry’s hand and his own stomach.

“Fuck,” Draco breathed.

Harry cast Scourgify wandlessly, the showoff, cleaning the mess they’d made before lying down next to Draco.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled, pressing a kiss to Draco’s forehead.

“I love you too, you big sap,” Draco said, inching closer to wrap his arms around Harry’s slick body. He rested his head on Harry’s chest and closed his eyes once more.

“We did it,” Harry said.

Draco opened his eyes and craned his neck to look up at him. Harry was grinning.

“What?”

“Broke the place in.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Never mind, I loathe you.”

“Harry? Draco? It’s Ron –“

“ _How many times –_ “ Draco whispered in a panic.

“Shut up,” Harry hissed as he nearly jumped out of bed and retrieved their pants.

He tossed Draco’s at his face and pulled his own on. In any other situation, Draco would have retaliated, but Ron bloody Weasley was about to walk in on him naked, so Draco pulled his pants on as well.

“Have you seen Rose’s dolly? She’s missing it and we think –“

Weasley had finally reached their bedroom and blanched immediately, his words dying in his throat. Granger was right at his heels, bumping into him when he’d stopped suddenly. Draco crossed his arms defensively and sat up even straighter in bed. He glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye; he was still standing in the spot where he’d gotten their pants. His expression was unreadable, even to Draco.

“Oh!” squeaked Hermione.

“Bloody hell, Harry! What are you –“

“I think we all know what I’m doing,” Harry said, his voice tight. “So just – get whatever you came here for and _please_ get the hell out.”

“Sorry!” Granger said shrilly. She grabbed Weasley’s arm and pulled. “Come on, Ron, I don’t think it’s here, we can try again tomorrow, let’s go…”

Weasley allowed himself to be pulled, apparently too shocked to move on his own.

“Yeah…alright.”

Draco and Harry watched as the pair stumbled away and listened for the _whoosh_ of the Floo before speaking.

“We’re closing off our Floo from now on,” Draco snapped.

“Yeah, I…yeah,” Harry agreed miserably.

He climbed back into bed and put his hands over his face. Draco kept talking.

“Mental, your lot. Completely mental. Who thinks it’s acceptable to just barge into somebody’s home unannounced? And then _they_ have the gall to be surprised about what they see?”

“I know.”

“That was by far the most humiliating experience of my life.”

Harry finally put his hands down and peeked over at Draco.

“Really?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Draco hissed. He slunk back down and laid in bed next to Harry. “Fuck you, Potter, for making me go through that.”

“Can we go back to you calling me Harry?”

“Only when you make up for this most recent transgression.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

Draco smirked, and Harry bit down a smile, always up for a challenge.

“I might have a few ideas.”


End file.
